Neverland: never for always
by Nagrom
Summary: Wendy Darling started her life on her thirteenth birthday when a strange boy came knocking on the window.The child of John Darling is to have an adventure of her own too...previously posted under another name but this is the same author
1. Prolouge

Prologue – a thought, just a thought

Isn't it funny how life can seem so innocent and easy going when you are a child? Then when its time for you to enter the world as an adult you would give anything for those childhood days to come back. The days when you had no worries or cares for anything in the world except for what the next hour or day might be, or how if something goes wrong and you need help there is the shelter of you home, your parents love. But when you grow up you need to think far into the future, not just taking one day at a time, but thinking about the day, the month or even the year after tomorrow. Maybe one day there shall be someone who gives every living person in the world the opportunity to relive their childhood days – relive those careless days where the were no limitation's, no time like the present and only looking onto the next day but not the day after that. Maybe that day will come soon rather then later for someone, maybe there will be someone who can stop the aging process and keep us as children forever – that day may come soon rather then later for one young woman.

I was always quite amazed at how much my father could drink. Five pints of beer an hour, then around what he called 'happy time' he would whisk down a glass and a half of champagne or red wine – no more like a bottle and a half. He was a heavy alcoholic and all my family knew it, but if you ever tried to convince him that this was the cause of all of his health problems, he would attempt to beat you into a pulp. He could never get out of his easy chair though to hurt you. My father was never a big man, but was never as small as any of the other men in his family. He never shaved – well once or twice a year when he finally found the head and body coordination to get out of his seat. He couldn't speak clearly as his word's were always slurred together from the drunkenness and he always would just flop where ever he stood or lay. My father was once a handsome man. Dreamy brown eyes, thick brown hair, muscle tone and was tall and proud. But after he started to drink he slumped his shoulders, put on weight, started to loose his hair and his eyes became bloodshot and watery. He also used to have a good cheery personality. Was eager to play with his children, eager to dance with his wife, even eager to go to work, but alcohol got the better of him. He used to have humor in his tone of voice and laughter in his smile and eyes. He then became bland and never laughed. Jonathan Darling, the man I knew as my father disappeared - after my mother died.

My mother. There isn't one single word that can describe such a woman. Amazing, divine, beautiful, spectacular, all understatements, unique might be the only word in the entire English language that can come close the one word that can describe my mother. Katherine Mary Darling. Katherine meaning pure in Greek, Mary meaning perfect one in Hebrew, and Darling, well she was a darling. Three names that perfectly suited my mother, she lived up to them. Her intentions in life were completely pure, as was everything about her. Her smile, her eyes, her laugh, they were also perfect. She had something that I always wanted, and something she said I would have to discover in myself. This special thing, this secret, was a hidden treasure in every woman. Naturally at eight years old I wouldn't be able to find it, but she always said it would come out and show itself when the time is right – I treasure that information, it was the last she gave me. She was the happiest person that could ever be crafted by the hands of god. I don't ever think that I could live up to the mark she left behind or the impression she left everyone she made contact with. She was always willing to tell a story, dance and play. Something that most mothers of my time were not often encouraged to do – fiddlesticks. It was commonly seen that if a child was mothered in the way that my mother did to me and my siblings that there child would not grow up in the right way, and would never be prepared for the real world. But then again, I don't think I was ever ready to grow up. She died when I was eight. We never knew why, but she just disappeared, we never knew what had happened. Her death was the catalyst for everything bad that soon happened in my life. The death of my brothers, Darcy and Hugh, and the death of my only sister Marie. It also caused my fathers drinking problems – which in turn cause his death.

So by my thirteenth birthday I was all alone, living with my aunt who spent most of her time at her tavern with the men of town. The year was 1887 on my thirteenth birthday I was stuck in my aunt's four bedroom town house, looking after her three children. I never really minded babysitting the three boys for they were always so attentive when I told them stories before they went to bed; we even acted them out sometimes. My aunt was a widow, so naturally she couldn't look after her children, and seeing as I was an orphaned child my aunt thought that helping her with her children would be the perfect practice for my child bearing years – yea right like looking after three boys under the age of eight will help me, seeing as all I did was tell them stories at night and make sure they were asleep. But it was when I was in the company of my aunt and her boys that my life really began. For it was there that I met a remarkable boy who would change the way that I viewed my life, forever. My name is Wendy Maive Darling, and on the night of my thirteenth birthday is where my life really began.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One – Living in the house of Aunt Jade

Aunt Jade was always such a strange and mysterious person, she had so many secrets, and I intended to discover all of them. She was my mother's sister, but she was nothing like my mother, her personality was hidden and her appearances dull. But she was all that I had. Her eyes were almost black from all the time she spent inside a dark tavern caring to the drunken wretches that came in every night. She was thin and boney and had rounded shoulders from all the time that she spent bending down to reach drinks underneath the bench. She had black hair that was thinning and would never be a shinny as some of the women in the part of London at which we lived. Aunt Jade never wore elaborate dresses, just straight black or navy blue, often with bows at the back or matching ribbons in her hair. She chose simple clothing as stains would not be easily seen and she blended in with her surroundings which suited her fine. Her sentences were structured like riddles or spells and she never gave you a straight answer, which often frustrated me but after thinking about what she had said, one would figure out the meaning of her madness. She never held parties like my parents did, she never found the need to; she had a party every night at her tavern. She was always content with herself and her simple lifestyle. She did indeed love her boys very much and within the budget given she tried to give them comfortable lives. However there was one thing that she couldn't give them was their father back, and she had no intentions of replacing him. Her tavern was open every night and seeing that I was part of the family there was no need for a nurse to look after the boys at night. My Aunt also believed that looking after them would help me mature; it only made me younger though. I will always remember standing at the top of the stair case and look down on her as she unlocked the old oak door at the front of the house before she stepped out into the cold night air, she would look around the hallway and for a split second her eyes would flash and become vibrant, her skin would shine and she seemed to look twenty year younger. In this split second that she seemed to become a younger more alive Aunt Jade, I saw my mother, and instead of seeing a mother of the three and the owner of a tavern I saw the sister of my dear mother. However as quickly as it started it was over and she was gone. I will always remember looking down at her from that spot in our house.

Unlike many people in the area of London that we lived in we didn't have an elaborate house. It had four bedrooms, one bathroom, a family room, a dinner room and a kitchen. We had a small courtyard out the back which was never cared to. My aunt had given up on it after her husband died, that courtyard was his pride and joy, now no one dares go into it. As you walk into our house from the courtyard you pass through large stain-glass doors depicting a scene of the sun rising. When I first moved into the house I would sit on one of the kitchen stools and just look at the glass doors, I was never bothered even when my aunt and the cook were busy preparing a meal I felt as if it was only me in the room. In my old house with had doors just like the ones in the kitchen, I still cry when I look at them. The kitchen was always my favorite room of the house because it was always so busy. It was a large room with black and white tiles on the floor and white cupboards with little roses in the corner of the door. I would sit and chat along with the cook for hours about nothing in particular, asking strange questions that often that the cook had no answer for so a went to my aunt who was often in the dinner room, writing up tallies about the business, how much drinks were needed and such things like that. She would never look up and me when I asked my strange questions, she just said in a clear voice her riddled–answer. I was always amused by the response that I got. The dinner room was only big enough to hold the dinning table with the eight chairs that surround it and the side–board. There was also barley enough room to walk through the room into the main hallway that had the grand staircase. All the furnishings in the dinner room were polish wood with dark green ferns on the cushions or in pots and vases as decorations. There is a huge window on one side of the room that looks out onto the street. The window was never open and the dark green blind's were never drawn, but because my aunt's house was set back from the street you could not see into the room. There were no elaborate chandeliers in this room, only lights scattered around the side of the doorways, but this room was hardly used at night time when lights were needed. After getting the estranged answer from my aunt to my difficult question I would walk through the room to the doorway that was opposite the one that lead out of the kitchen and turn to walk up our stairs. They weren't a grand set of stairs but were in the middle of our house. If you stood at the top of the stairs you were directly above the front door. I would of look over the edge of the banister at the top of the stairway and wait for my mother to walk in the door, but she never came. You have two options after you reach the top of the stairs, to turn left and go off too the nursery and two other bedrooms or go right to the bathroom and my aunt's room. I would always go left as my room was that way. It was always a hassle for me to get to my room because I had to walk through the nursery because my room linked up to the nursery. I would walk to the end of the hall and there would be two doors one that was opened, the nursery, and the other was the guest room. The guest room door was always closed unless we had a member of the family staying with us. But I never felt the need to be a snoop and look into the room I just always walked by into the nursery.

Unlike any other room in the house, our nursery wasn't made up of a set colour pattern. It was a rainbow of colour's, ranging from pastels to bright yellows, or deep blue and greens to pink and red's, all the colour's that one would imagine. It was also the largest room in our house seeing as it was the bedroom of three little boys who had so many toys that you could not count them all without getting a headache. I spent most of my time in this room, well when I wasn't at school or chatting away with the cook. There was night – lights all around the room and a small simple light that hung from the ceiling. Lined up against the longest wall were three beds that belonged to the boys, Henry, Thomas and Jackson. They were simple four poster beds with no netting and on Jackson's (the smallest of the three) bed there were bars that moved up and down so he wouldn't fall out at night and hit his head on one of the many toys that inhabited the room. Across from the line of bed's there was a large window with a window-sill that was wide enough for me to sit on. The window was simple with no specific design on it. It opened outward and locked with a little gold hook which had a small design on it of flowers and vines. When I first arrived at my aunt's house I sat for a long time looking at the hook until I realized what the pattern was, I was so amazed at how someone could carve something so detailed into something so small. Next to the nursery, through a door at the other end of the room was my small little bedroom. I had one little chest of drawers and a small little four poster bed that was pushed up next to the wall opposite the door. Next to the head of the bed was my chest of drawers. I never owned much so all of my possessions fit comfortably into the dark polished wood piece of furniture. Opposite the chest of drawers was my window. It was small, but I could stand up in it if I chose to. It had a stain glass design of doves and other birds flying through the trees. It lifted upwards with a small lock at the top. The frame of the window was white. This matched my white wallpaper and the white rug on the floor. Like the window in the nursery, this one had a large window sill with plump cushion's which I would often sit on, gazing out the window waiting for someone to take me away to another world.

One very still night in June, a week before my thirteenth birthday, whilst at school I had witnessed an event that made me wonder, and eventually I came up with a strange question that I would ask the cook when I got home. The event was I saw a boy, older than me, from the near by boys school come to our school and give one of the older girls a bunch of flowers. Seeing as I was so young at that point in my life I never new what this action meant and I wanted to know why the girl seemed so embarrassed. I sat through my last lessons of the day thinking about what the boy had done and on the way home I saw many grown men purchasing bunches of flowers, most likely to be given to women that they fancied, but I was unaware of that at the time. When I arrived home my Aunt was out picking up the boys, no doubt, so I went straight to the kitchen there was cook busy doing her job when I walked in she looked up at me as an acknowledgment.

"Hello Cook! How are you this splendid day?" I asked pulling up a stool next to the table in the middle of the room. I removed my hat and summer jacket and started to peel some of the mushrooms that were left on the table.

"Why Miss Wendy, 'tis a pleasant surprise to see you down 'ere so early! Don't you have any work that the school sent home today?" asked the cook as she sat down next to me and started to chop up some of the carrots that lay on the table too. Our cook was not old, but not young either. She is the same age as Aunt Jade and grew up with my aunt in my grandmother's house. The two had become so close that when Aunt Jade moved out and got married she took Cook with her. Cook was not a tall woman or a big one, but she wore so many petticoats under her dress that you would get the impression she was bigger. She like my aunt never wore elaborate dresses, plain grey or black with a white apron. She had rough hands from all the meals she made and her skin was becoming dry. Her face was always smiling and her baby–blue eyes always seemed to dance. Her blond hair was beginning to fade into grey and she kept it back in a tight bun so that when she cooked she didn't have hair in the way. She was there in the morning when I woke up and when I went to bed she was there, it was as if she never left the house. However Aunt Jade said that she went back to her own little home a couple of streets away. I never knew her real name, she always went by Cook.

"It is Friday, remember? We never get any work sent home on Fridays," I said and she nodded in reply as she stood up and put the chopped up carrots into the large pot which she was now stirring. "In fact, I have a question that I would like to ask you," I said bringing over the mushrooms which I had peeled and chopped up.

"Well ask away dear, I'll try an' answer the best I can," she replied as I poured the mushrooms into the pot.

"What does it mean Cook when a man either buys a bunch of flowers for a woman or gives a woman a bunch of flowers?" I asked walked back to my chair. Cook turned around and looked at me quite astonished.

"Did a boy from you cousin's school give you a bunch of flowers?" she asked, quite anxious. This was good gossip.

"No, some boy from the near-by high school gave one of the girls in the upper class a bunch of flowers and I just want to know what that means. No man has ever give Aunt Jade any flowers, have they?" So many questions started to pop into my head, what did it all mean? I never really had any male influences, apart from those younger than me, that had done this so I had never been exposed to it before.

"Well, Miss Wendy, when a man gives a woman a," she paused, "a present like this bunch of flowers you are describing to me, it shows that he cares for her. Like your father would bring flowers to you mother when they were, oh, only seventeen. It was so romantic," she said with a sigh. I loved to listen to Cook talk about my mother and father when they were younger. My mother was the oldest and my father would come to my grandmother's house every day leaving flowers, or jewelry or chocolates, it was ever so romantic.

"One day cook will a boy bring me flowers?" I asked leaning forward looking at her.

"Yes my dear, how could anyone resist you. Such a purty girl like you," she said turning back to the pot. I leant back on my stool and imagined a tall handsome boy with curly hair and blue eyes showing up on my door step with a bunch or red roses and a ring...my train of thought was then interrupted when cook turned around and exclaimed "Oh Wendy I forgot to tell you! Your Aunt, Wendy Darling is coming for a visit, for you birthday!" Cook was so excited. Whenever my father's older sister came to visit me from Paris excitement spread through our house like a disease. All the stories that I have even known have been from listening to her tell them. She was a great storyteller and was a writer of children's books too. However, her books were not often published, but Aunt Jade always bought them and read them to me, I read them myself now of course. Aunt Wendy only came twice year, around my birthday and around Christmas. I was her only niece and she was ever so fond of me.

"Oh Cook, you just made my day by telling me that! When will she be arriving?" I asked now on my feet with my hands clasped and my eyes bright.

"She is arriving on Sunday so you better go and make sure that your room is spotless, and the nursery too," said cook looking over her shoulder at me. I was now jumping up and down this was so exciting.

"Will she be here on the day of my birth or must she leave?" I said suddenly standing still with a more concerned look on my face.

"I am afraid she will not be here for the day of your birth, she must leave the Wednesday before it, but she shall be here for and awfully long time. Miss Wendy do you know that this time in one week you shall be thirteen?" she said stopping what she was doing and looking at me.

"Oh yes Cook I do know, it is all that I have thought about today," just then the front door clicked open. I ran out and met my cousin's as the dropped every thing and ran upstairs to the nursery. "Oh Aunt Jade, is cook telling the truth, is Aunt Wendy Darling coming for a visit on Sunday and until Wednesday for my birthday?" I said looking up at my tired Aunt. She smiled at me and I knew that meant yes. I ran upstairs to the boys who were already diving into their toy chests.

Downstairs Aunt Jade locked the front door and walked through the dinner room into the kitchen. "She certainly seems happy at the news my old friend," said Aunt Jade standing next to Cook as she started to carve the meat that we would be having for supper. Cook just smiled in reply to what my aunt had said. "It is getting dark awfully quickly tonight, don't you think?" said Aunt Jade as she walked over to the stain glass door, she then looked back.

"Why yes, it is a mysterious time of year. It is going to be a very still night indeed. No noise will travel, no trees with rustle in the wind tonight my friend," said Cook in her mysterious.

"Yes, Wendy Darling is coming home, all of London can feel the change," said my aunt softly. There was a sweet silence between the two now until the thud of little boys running up and down was heard. "Well, I should start getting ready for work tonight, supper won't be long I trust?"

"No ma'am," said Cook. My aunt left the room and walked through the dinner room and up the stair case turning right and opened the door to her bedroom. At the other end of the hall the boy were running around with their toy swords and they had scarves around their head. They had stripped off their school clothes and now were just in plain white or black shirts with grey trousers. I too had taken off my school dress and now was in my plain white supper dress. I stepped out of my room whilst my little cousin's (who were pretending to be pirates) ran around clashing sword's and laughing. As soon as they saw me step out the stopped and sat in front of Thomas' (the middle child's) bed. I paced in front of them with my own head scarf on and a sword sheathed in my belt.

"Argh, you scoundrels! I have information for ye!" the boys cheered, I silenced them with my hand, "The nights are coming early and they wind has been stilled. These are the signs of a mystical being who is returning to us," I said leaning over them now staring at each boy in turn.

"Who is it Wendy, please tell us!" said Henry getting excited the other boys joined in the pleading cries.

"The magical being is," pause, "Aunty Wendy Moira Angela Darling! The Storytelling queen!" I said throwing my hands up in the air. The boys jumped up and we all started to dance, just as Cook called us down for supper. The boys threw there head scarves and toy sword's to the side and ran down stairs. The window was now open and there was only a thin line of golden orange and the stars had come out to play. I picked up the sword's and placed them in the toy chest along with mine. Whilst picking up the scarves I thought I heard a noise from the window, a tinkling and a little chuckle that belonged to a boy. I cautiously walked over to the window and looked out of it but there was nothing there. That was my first encounter with real mystery and my life would never be the same again.


	3. Chapter two

Chapter Two – Aunt Wendy comes to visit

I sat with the boys in our family room on Sunday afternoon. My Aunt Jade had been gone since midday and was to bring Aunt Wendy back with her, it was now past three o'clock and the boys were getting restless. I looked around at our family room. It was large with white muslin curtain's that hung near a window crowded with shrubbery. The walls were cover in with wall paper with thin strips of pale yellow and little rose patterns. There was a large brick fire place with a mantle on top which held up old photographs of the children and their parents. The sitting chairs with white with a golden – brown wood as a frame. There was also an old side piano which I used in my piano and singing lessons. It was a very old piano with a dusty top and a matt finish. It belonged to my mother's mother; Aunt Jade says when she was very young when she had it. I sat on the white sitting chair in my best dress – a blue satin dress with a straight skirt that reached my ankles. I only wore one petticoat seeing as I was never fond of big dresses; they weren't good to play in. It had sleeves that went three-quarters of the way down my arm. My honey brown hair hung loosely over my shoulders in ringlets and parts of it was pulled back by a matching bow. I leaned forward on so my chin rested on the palm of my hand – Why are that taking so long? I thought to myself. The boys had grown tired of waiting and started to mess around with the piano pressing random notes all at once it was really a horrible sound to hear. I stood up and walked over to them, Henry was sitting quietly on one of the chairs, which was quite unlike him.

"Now boys that is no way to treat such a valuable instrument, why the old, ugly captain of the Black Mist, Thaddeus Eiye would be most appalled," Captain Thaddeus Eiye was a pirate I had created to cover my stories with an evil veil that was released when the heroine or hero defeated him. The boys stopped and looked at me immediately, "Now seeing as the piano was indeed his favorite of all musical instruments wouldn't you want to honor it?" I asked look at them.

"But why would we want to honor something that the vilest pirate of the seven seas treasures?" Thomas said looking up at me – he had made a very good point. I beckoned them to come and sit on the carpet in front of my sitting chair. Henry had decided to join us, they all looked so teddy – bear like in their fine clothes and the way that they sat looking up at me attentively.

"Young Thomas you do have a point there, why would we honor something that the one person we hate the most treasure's, well to pass the time let me tell you a story of how the piano came to be the old captains favorite instrument," I paused and took a breathe, "Let me take you back a hundred years to a small sea port on the coastline of Ireland. It was a small shipping village with a small social ladder or the commoners, fishermen etc., merchants and the men who owed the big shipping businesses and then the governor. Now there was no army or navy to protect the village, so that's no one to protect the people if they fell under attack by pirate's or bandits from inland, but the village wasn't really known to the outside world, so the people were safe. However there had been encounters before where unfriendly seamen had come and raided the village of items ranging from gold and food and supplies to women and small boys. That type of crisis had not happened to the small port for ten years and hadn't been disturbed for which the town's people were thankful.

"The governor of the village was greedy man though and was harsh on the town's people; taking away their money in something he called 'tax' and sold off his children for money. But our story is about on of his children a young woman called Maggie. She was not sold off as her brothers and sisters were but kept in her father's house under the rule of her stepmother. Her stepmother was a cruel hearted person and forced Maggie to become a servant. She worked from dawn till dusk running errand's for the house, cleaning, attending, looking after the horses. She was forced to work far too hard by her stepmother and was often giving a gift for her work – a beating. Maggie longed to get away from her life and decided to ask for the opportunity to take up a career – a job" I added noticing Jackson's look, "as a piano teacher. She had been taught whilst her mother was alive in secret and thought it a good idea. Her wish was granted as her stepmother thought it would mean one less servant to deal with. Her lesson's started promptly and became a success with the girl's of the port. For once in her life she was happy.

"But on a cold night in autumn the wind change direction and all was quite throughout the town. Maggie was walking though the ports after making a house call for one of her music lessons when she heard the fishermen talk about strange ships docking at the port and a man that resemble someone touched by the devil. A man so cold at heart that he would slaughter men in his own crew if he found their very presence annoying. Many of the sailors referred to him as the Devil's Pirate. Maggie rushed back to her studio hugging her coat tight around her small figure; it was going to be an awfully cold night." I paused for a second to see the boy's reaction's to what I had just told them. They just sat there; I looked up at the clock briefly I had been going on for fifteen minute's already. I took a breath and started up again.

"Maggie had gone to bed late that night after she had been practicing her own pieces on the piano. The wind was now still and a strange moan seemed to drift up from the harbor. Maggie locked all the doors and windows tonight shutting the curtains and keeping the candle's burning. She settled down into bed and drifted into a dreamless sleep, right beside her bed a sword for protection. Outside, down the main street and in the harbor a fog a grown and a large ship with black sails and a flag with a black background and a white skull and crossed bone's on it sailed silently into the harbor. It docked at a free deck and swiftly and silently a vile group of men, unshaven, un-bathed, with black hearts and weapons of destruction. They entered the port and silently started to raid the houses and shops killing those who opposed them. The captain of this vile crew walked the main street calmly looking into the windows and door ways of the houses. He noticed Maggie's house and the piano inside.

'O'Toole!' said the captain calling for the first mate. 'Open this door,' the man named O'Toole did as he was told. The Captain of the pirate's walked into the house and was confronted by Maggie with sword in hand.

'Get out of my house!' she said through clenched teeth." By now I was on my feet acting out the scene standing beside the piano. I hadn't even noticed my Aunt's walk in through the front door.

"'You dare oppose me little girl?' Said the captain calmly stepping forward running his fingers over the piano, 'What a fine piece of furniture, what is its function?' he asked looking round at her taking off his feather hat." I stopped as my Aunt Wendy spoke:

"Well you children won't need the book I bought for you, you have a perfectly good one here," she said nodding to me smiling. I ran over to her and wrapped my arms around her waist as she was a head and shoulders taller than me. "Let me take a look at you," she said holding my shoulders at arms length. "My, my, you look more like your mother every time I see you." She said smiling after taking a long look at me. She walked over and sat on the easy chair by the fire place and the rest of us (my aunt, the boys and I) sat on the sitting chairs that held two or more people. I looked at my Aunt Jade who was sitting next to Jackson straightening his shirt.

"Aunt Jade, are they new earrings?" I questioned her; she didn't look up at me but answered quickly.

"Yes they are from you Aunt Wendy," she brushed down Jackson's shirt and looked up. They were small pearls on a golden hook. I knew my Aunt Jade loved pearls, all the jewelry that she owned (not very much may you keep in mind) was pearls. My Aunt Wendy must have known that she was fond of them too. Aunt Wendy clapped to get everyone's attention as we were all commenting on Aunt Jade's new earrings. Wendy pulled up a small, soft bag onto her lap and opened it. Inside she reached for a carefully wrapped packaged. It was rectangular and looked hard. She asked my cousin Henry to come to her and she handed him the package. He ripped it open and inside was a book with a leather cover and gold writing saying the_ Hobbit_.

"Your mother told me that you like to read, so I bought you this book. It is from a very talented author and this is a very good book. I read it whilst attending university, you might need some help with it but it is worth the read," she said kissing him on the cheek. He walked away mesmerized by the book and started to flick through the pages. My Aunt reached into the bag yet again and brought out small book filled with blank pages and a box that looked like it was filled with paints and charcoal. "Thomas' this is for you, I expect some good work from you," she said kissing him on the cheek too. Thomas' loved art and held his present close to him. Jackson stood up expecting him to be next and walked over to Aunt Wendy. This time she didn't reach into the soft bag but behind her chair. She pulled out a long package, Jackson ripped the paper off to find a sword made with a wooden blade and metal handle, "It is wooden so that you don't hurt anyone and it is the same as the ones I got for you brother's last Christmas," he kissed Aunt Wendy on the cheek this time and ran over to his mother showing over the sword. Aunt Wendy then looked at me and motioned me to come over to her she reached into her bag one last time and handed me a soft package, "For your birthday she said," I opened the present and out slithered a pink silk night- gown with matching dressing – gown. It had thin straps instead of small puffy short-sleeved ones like my old night-gown, and had a princess cut. It was long and reached just below my ankles. I slipped on the dressing – gown over my dress. It reached half-way up my lower legs and the sleeves hung three – quarters of the way down my arm. It had one single button and button hole and nothing else. I twirled around and looked down at it.

"Oh Aunt Wendy, I love it!" I exclaimed running over to her and hugged and kissed her, "Thank you so much," I said hugging her again.

"Well I am glad you like it, is that supper I smell," she said sniffing the air. I looked back at the clock it was after five already, I talked to the boys for age's. Cook called out for supper and the boys ran into the dinner room, leaving their presents in the family room. Aunt Wendy and Jade followed the boys out into the dinner room and sat at opposite ends of the large table. I was now left alone in the family room and dutifully picked up the boy's gifts and my own and took them up stairs. As I walked into the nursery I noticed that the window was closed. Putting the things on the boys respective bed's I went to open it. The night was still again and the stars were already starting to show. The sky was no longer the pale blue of the day time but a haze red mixed with blue and purple. The nights were falling early for summer; I thought as I leant on the window sill, that these nights would be perfect for flying – like some of the hero's in my stories often did. I turned and looked towards the mirror on the far side of the nursery, Aunt Wendy was right I did look a lot like my mother. When I was young most people would comment on the many psychical similarities that I had with my father. Dark hair, dark eyes, short build, straight hair. But when I looked into the mirror I saw that I had change. I was no longer short but tall (well for my age) and my hair was no longer dark and straight but naturally fell into ringlets and was a lighter brown. My eye colour had not changed though to my disappointment I wanted blue eyes like my mother's. My sister had blue eyes and I always envied her for that.

I stood up and walked through the nursery into my room with my new bedclothes flung over my arm. As I walked into my room my eyes were looking down and I didn't notice the boy edging his was towards the open window. After laying my new night – gown on my bed and hanging my dressing-gown over a hook behind the door I turned around and looked in the direction of the window and to my shock and total surprise there stood a boy dressed in an outfit made from leaves and vines, with messy ginger hair, brown skin over his young features, a small dagger sitting at his holster on the right and cheeky eyes. I fell backwards in shock and rammed into my chest of drawers knocking off some of my needles and reels of thread. The boy too seemed startled and flew out of the window, followed closely by a little yellow light. I ran over to my window to see if he was there but there was nothing but the night. No trail of light from the small ball, and not a trace of the boy who was in my room. I sat on the cushions and kept looking out the window then remember that it was supper time. I got up and looked out of the window one last time and went down stairs. Everyone was sitting at the table, the boys already eating but my aunt's were gracious enough to wait for me.

"My dear hurry up or your food will get cold," said Aunt Jade pulling out a chair beside her. "What were you doing up there, we already said grace and the boys have started eating." Said my aunt brushing down the front of my dress, she had a habit of doing that. I took up my soup spoon and scooped up some then looked at my aunt.

"I was just putting away the boy's things," I said lightly taking a spoonful of the soup. My aunt still looked at me strangely a she broke of some bread to dip into her soup.

"Well," said Aunt Wendy, "After supper why don't you finish telling the boys that story about the girl called Maggie. I am dieing to here the ending. Sound's like perfectly scary story, what brought it about?" She asked as she finished of her soup and cook brought out the main meal. She looked to me waiting for an answer.

"To tell you the truth Aunt Wendy, Jackson and Thomas were playing around on the piano. Pressing random keys and making a horrible sound. To catch their attention I said that Captain Thaddeus Eiye would be disgraced of the way that they were treating the piano and that we should respect it in his honor. Then Thomas asked a very good question, why should we respected something that the vilest of all bad things treasures. Soon I got them to come and sit in front of me and I started to tell them the story of how it became the captain's most treasured instrument. I really only did that to pass the time as they were getting restless and frankly quite annoying," I concluded as Cook brought out a plate full of food for me.

"Well I am quite interested to hear the end to that story," she said promptly taking eating a piece of meat. "So how has school been for you this year Wendy?" She asked moving on.

"Very well thank you, I am finally getting the hang of things," I replied happily. The questions about how my life was going continued all through dinner and until all the plates had been cleared from the table. My Aunt Jade declared that she had to go into the tavern tonight to sort out some business (she didn't usually open it on Sunday) and I took the boys upstairs to get ready for bed. I told them that I would finish the story but that only made them harder to get ready. However in the end I succeeded and they all sat quietly on the floor in the nursery waiting to hear the rest of the story. Aunt Wendy then gracefully walked into the room and sat down on one of the beds and too watched attentively.

"Well go on Wendy, tell us the end of the story," she said urging me on. I took a deep breath and looked around recalling where I had left off:

"'What is its function you ask,' said Maggie looking sternly at the captain, 'I wouldn't dream of telling you anything,' she said bravely holding the sword out in front of her for protection. The captain looked towards her and shook his head.

'So naïve you are little girl,' he drew his own sword and flicked Maggie's out with shear grace. He now held the tip of his blade below her chin, 'Now tell me how it works,' he said with a threatening tone in his voice. She moved away from the blade and over towards the piano carefully removing the cloth that covered the keys. She sat slowly down on the stool and rested her long white fingers on the keys and started to play. It was a simple tune she played on the piano but the captain was intrigued. 'O'Toole! Take this young girl aboard the ship and bring this -,'

'Piano,' said Maggie finishing off Eiye's sentence. For months and years Maggie sailed with the pirate crew aboard the old ship. Some of the men were scared as they thought that bringing a woman aboard the ship was a curse and terrible bad luck – seeing as Pirate's are very suppositious. But Eiye would not put her on ground as he was intrigued by the way that she played the piano. She had taught him how to play – but not with joy in her heart as she did back at the small port but with complete fear. Of course fear came from the fact that she would often have a knife at her throat. But she continued too live none the less, never dinning with the crew. She was said because she was all alone and there was no one for her to talk too.

"However one cold night when the pirates were looting a small sea port she put into action a plan that she had been devising on her long and lonely nights. She was locked in her cabin but there was a door which linked to the Captain's cabin and she knew that his cabin would not be locked. So, when she knew that everyone had left the ship she crept like a small church-mouse through the door and into Eiye's cabin, sword in hand. Maggie then when over to the door and opened it. It was an old creaky door but that didn't bother her. She slowly walked up onto the deck staying out of sight of those very few pirate's guarding the ship. One by one she silently stabbed them in the back and making sure all was clear climbed down the side of the boat and swam to shore. However the pirates started to return to the ship earlier than she expected, loaded with jewelry and money along with rare silks and supplies. Maggie climbed up the rocky shore hoping not to be seen but her fears can true and waiting for her at the road was Eiye.

"He had a wicked smile stretched across his face. Maggie took a swing of her sword at him and just grazed passed his arm slicing off a bit of material. His face screwed up in anger as he drew his sword and met hers. Fear crept into Maggie's eyes but she did not move and took another swing at him, then another and another after that. Eiye was quite surprised at Maggie's determination. But the battle between the two had not been raging for long before the law enforcement of the town arrived.

"'What's going on here?' asked one of the men. Maggie turned around and told him her story in brief – she was believed and Eiye was bound and taken to the jail, where as the rest of his crew sailed away O'Toole becoming the new captain. Maggie settled herself down in the town far away from the jail and started up her piano lessons again. Eiye had much respect for her bravery and much respect for her piano. The end," I finally said taking a bow as my small audience clapped.

"Fabulous story Wendy, now I think it is time for some young boys to get to bed. And you too Wendy," said my aunt as the boys leaped up and jumped into bed. She tucked them in and kissed their forehead's, "Good night little one's. Good night Wendy, tomorrow night it is my turn to tell a story," she said and kissed my head, turning on her heal and walking out the door, turning off the lights but keeping the night light's on. I turned from the nursery and walked into my small room closing the door behind me. I started to take of my dress and put on my new pink silk night-gown. I took the bow out of my hair and put it on top of the chest of drawers. After pulling back the sheets on my bed I walked over to the window again and looked out whilst sitting on the cushioned window sill. I stuck my head out of the window and looked up and down to see if the mysterious boy who had been in my room earlier was there, but I could see nothing. Giving up on seeing him again I retreated to bed, turning on the night light and drifted off into dreamland.

I woke with a jerk on Monday morning. A little body had jumped on top of my bed awaking me from a pleasant sleep

"What...what," I muttered sleepily. As I opened my eyes I saw the two bright green eyes that belonged to Jackson. His face looked worried and impatient. He sat back on his legs as I began to sit up stretching my arms and rubbing my eyes, "What is the matter Jackson? Why did you jump on my bed?"

"Your going to be late for school, it is quarter to nine," I lazily closed my eyes then opened them wide in disbelief. He then ran out of the room and shut the door behind him to leave me to get dressed. I jumped out of bed and pulled the covers up so it looked like they had been made. Whilst in the process of taking my uniform from the chest of drawers a single thimble knocked down off the top and landed on my bed. I didn't noticed running down stairs to pick up my coat and book bag.

Jackson was indeed right I was late for school and landed myself in trouble again. I was not allowed out at lunch but was given lines to write out after finishing my food. It wasn't a particularly pleasant day at school and when I arrived home the house was empty. Not even Cook was in the kitchen, but she did leave a note saying that she had to run out and get some onion for supper – I never liked onion. I took my things up stairs and laid my book bag on the floor of my room. I then noticed that the hem of my tunic had come undone and was beginning to fray. I took or my tunic and pulled on a blue summer dress. Reaching for my sewing basket I noticed that my thimble was missing. Recalling back to that morning I remembered that the thimble had fallen onto my bed but now it was gone. Crawling around the floor I realized it was gone. Looking in the nursery for it would be tiresome but perhaps it would be there. But there was no sign of it anywhere. I replaced it with on of the spare one's from my aunts sewing basket, but I wondered where it could have got too.

After finishing the hem on my tunic I heard the door open from down stairs and the patter of little feet up the staircase. Jackson ran into my room and looked at me in an I-told-you-so manner.

"You were right my dear boy, I was indeed late for school," he chuckled then ran back into the nursery and started to play sword's with his brothers. I stood in the door way watching them and laughing. They could have been pirate's if they wanted too already had the right technique.

Aunt Wendy's stay was far too short for my liking. Before we all knew it we were standing out on the front stone steps waving good bye. She had her bags in her hands and a hat on her head with a carriage waiting for her. She hugged us each leaving me till last when she whispered in my ear: "Wendy, you are almost thirteen, and I have a piece of advice for you. If a boy comes to your window at night and has a little light following him and he wears garments made from leaves and vines, do not be afraid. If this boy offers to take you away to a place called Neverland...."

"Neverland? What is that?" I asked interrupting her. All she did was put her finger up to my mouth to hush me.

"If he offers to take you away to a place called Neverland and you say yes, never, I repeat never return," she said kissing my forehead. She said goodbye to us all one last time then turned and walked done the path and hoped in the carriage giving the coach man her bags she waved and then she was gone. We all walked back into the house and continued on with what we were doing. I went up stairs and into my room, soon night feel and it was time for bed - that was the last time I saw my Aunt Wendy.

My birthday was a joyous occasion. My aunt and cousin's gave me wonderful presents and one of the girls from school brought me in some flowers. Even my usually horrible teacher was bearable that day. Because it was a Friday no work was sent home and I had a pleasant evening playing sword's with the boys and telling them stories. But soon came the time for sleep and after putting the boys to bed I slipped into my silk night-gown and sat at the window. I think that I fell asleep, because when I woke up later on in the night I was still there. It was another still night; a clear night where all the stars shone brightly in the dark purple curtain that was the night sky. I could see the roof tops of the other house and all the lights were out. It was a beautiful night and it seemed as if it would be a fairy night. I turned around and looked at my room to find the same boy who had appeared some night's earlier standing there with his knuckles resting on his hips and a mischievous smile on his face. I was so startled that I fell backwards and out the window. Sure of death I closed my eyes and waited but there was nothing except two strong arms holding me. I slowly opened my eyes to see the strange boy carrying me. But even more to my shock was the fact that we were slowly floating up and back to my window. I was no longer scared but curious then I realized that he was flying. He slowly let me back down on the window sill and held my hand guiding me onto the floor. He soon followed suit and slowly let his feet touch the ground. He was half a head taller than me and looked older than me too. He looked at me then as if something jogged in his mind he made a low bow then came back up and looked into my eyes. Following suit I took the edge of my gown and curtsied. He then reached for something then held his arm outstretched to me with a closed fist then opened it. In his hand was a small silver thimble much like the one that I had lost on Monday. I picked it up with my fingers then held it in my hand and looked up to find him smiling with triumph.

"For your birthday," he said in a warm voice unlike any other I had ever heard before, I smiled.

"Thank you," it came out softer than intended – I couldn't really find my voice. I looked at him and then asked, "What is you name?" He smiled.

Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up I was on holidays! Tessa


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three – Come away with me

Yes I guess I gave this chapter away in the title – SORRY!

"Who wants to know?" He replied in a very cheeky manner, grinning. I placed one hand on my hip and looked him straight in the eye.

"Well, I for one would want to know the name of the mysterious person who is standing in my room," I shifted all my weight to one leg and folded my arms, "Also aren't I allowed to know the name of the boy who just saved my life?" The boy stared for a while as if pondering what I just said. He then put his knuckles on his hips and finally said:

"I suppose that you do a have a point, and I am being very rude, my name is Peter, Peter Pan," I was overjoyed he was the mysterious boy that never grew up in my Aunt Wendy's story, the one who took her away, taught her to fly and to believe. I always would imagine myself in my Aunt's shoes at that age and pretend that I was flying high in the night sky along side of him, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect that I would actually happen. I moved my hand to my mouth at the first initial shock then my mouth curled into a wide smile and I drew my hand away.

"My name is Wendy, Wendy Darling," the look on Peter's face when I said my name was Wendy Darling cannot be explained. It seemed as if he had found something that he had been searching for, something he had been searching for, for a very long time. I looked at him with bewilderment as his eyes lit up and his stance soften, "Are you okay?" What a positively stupid question to ask, I thought to myself after. Then his look change as if to say 'It cannot be true', he shock his head and looked at me then said:

"You can't be Wendy Darling, it is impossible. You are nothing like her – he eyes are blue and hair is different," he looked me over to see if there was anything else wrong with my appearance. I felt quite insulted and glared at the Peter.

"I am indeed Wendy Darling and if you would like me to prove it," I said turning my back to him. I walked over to my chest of drawers and opened one of the smaller top drawers. This drawer held an assortment of things – mainly valuable to me in some odd way. I found what I was looking for and carefully eased it out of the drawer not wanting to rip it. It was an old piece of paper with stains and was turning brown. Parts of the edges were frayed but the writing was still clear. I turned back around after closing the drawer and look at him waiting impatiently. I read aloud, "Born June 28th, to proud parent's Katherine and Jonathan Darling is the baby girl Wendy Maive Darling. See its all there in black and white I am Wendy Darling," I thrusted the piece of paper in front of his nose. Peter sighed.

"Not the Wendy Darling I know," I could see his eyes glaze over, and small pools of water formed in the lower eye lid. He hung his head so I could no see the tears rolling down his face. A sudden pang of guilt rose in my heart as I her him stifle his sniffs. I threw the piece of paper onto my bed and brought my arms up to my chest, fiddling with the thimble in my fingers. I took a step forward and he took a step back,

"Don't cry boy, don't cry Peter. I am sorry; I didn't want to hurt you feelings. Please, please stop crying," there was a sense of urgency in my voice and I could feel my eyes starting to sting with tears – when I saw other people cry I felt like crying too, like I was sharing their pain. I plunked onto my bed and turned around crying into my pillow – what was I so worked up over? Peter must have noticed that I too was now crying and stopped because all I could here was my own pathetic sobs. He walked over to where I lay in a heap on the bed and softly poked my shoulder with is index finger. He kept poking me until I looked up from my pillow and acknowledged him. He had a caring smile spread across his face. He sat down at the edge of the bed and I sat up so our eye's met. I returned his smile and he broke out into laughter, I soon joined him.

"What were you crying about silly other Wendy lady?" Peter said stopping his warm laughter, I stopped to the looked at him and my face went pink slightly and I looked down and played with the thimble in my fingers again.

"I was sad that you were crying Peter boy. I thought that I was the one that made you cry because I was being rude and obnoxious to you about being Wendy Darling, it made my insides chill and my eyes sting with tears," I looked back up at him, he really didn't seem to care anymore then I remembered something – something in one of Aunt Wendy's story books. "Wait, your Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up?" I said thinking out aloud he looked at me and chuckled.

"Uh, yes I am I said that my name was Peter Pan ear-" I put my hand up to silence him. The thought over again what he had said about me not being Wendy Darling – then it hit me, Wendy Darling was my aunt and this was Peter Pan, the boy who took her away to Neverland. I look up at him with the word 'excitement' practically written over my face. Peter gave me a queer look and tilted his head to the side.

"Wendy Darling, you're talking about Wendy Moira Angela Darling," I said jumping off my bed and stood in front of Peter looking down on him, he slowly nodded his head still looking at me strangely, "Do you know who she is? She is my Aunt!" I exclaimed then listened for any stirring from the room next door – none came. Peter looked at me and stood up with shock in his features.

"She's your, your Aunt?" he said wide eyed, then said "What's an Aunt?" And with that he began to cross his legs and float in the air so that is eyes were level with mine.

"Well, um, an Aunt is a member of you family, like a brother or sister. Aunt Wendy is my father's older sister, my father – John," I added noticing his quizzical look, "She is grown up now – if you wanted to know. She was here a few days ago – for my birthday, she gave me this night-dress," I twirled around but Peter didn't seem to care, a look of disappointment came over his face as he let his feet touch the ground.

"Wendy, she, she grew up?" he voice was thin a croaky unlike the warm full one I had heard earlier. Just after he spoke a little ball of light flew in and it made a tinkling sound. As it came closer I noticed that it was not just a ball of light, but the tiny form of a woman. She left a trail of golden dust in the air behind her that soon faded away. She seemed to be dancing and jumping in the air. Peter saw this and gave her an evil look; she just turned her back to him and kept dancing.

"Why is she so happy?" I said laughing, "She is a very interesting creature, is she a fairy," the little ball of light turned and nodded at me. Peter still had a grave look on his face and the warmth had gone out of his eye's – I thought he was going to cry again, "Oh Peter please don't cry again!" I said defensively. He shook his head and looked at me smiling weakly.

"Oh no, no. Won't cry, just she grew up," he looked to the ground; I walked over and lifted his chin:

"She is still young inside but you won't find her here, she lives in France," I took a step back he looked at me, I guessed is question, "France is a place very far away," he shrugged at my answer, then let out a heavy sigh. "I don't think she will forget you – it's just...it was time for her to grow up," he looked at me with much distaste.

"Don't even mention growing up," he growled then lightened up, "but you are right. I guess it is time for me to stop pursuing Wendy," he looked at me and bowed again, "Come on Tink lets go home the boys will want to hear the stories I heard tonight. It was nice to meet you other Wendy lady," he floated of the floor and over to the open window, I didn't want him to go I had so much more that I wanted to find out.

"Wait, what do you mean the stories that you have heard?" I asked in a desperate attempt to keep him talking. He turned around and stood on the window sill looking at me.

"From you of course! I have been listening to you tell those boys in the next room stories for years, then I go home and tell the Lost boy's them," he said as if he was proud of himself. I heard a little tinkle and the fairy seem annoyed maybe she wanted to go home. I knew I couldn't keep them waiting so I turned around and climbed into bed my pillow still wet from the tears.

"Goodnight Peter boy, it was nice to meet you," I said and closed my eyes. I felt a hot breath on my cheek and slowly opened my eyes to see Peter hovering above me I smiled and whispered, "What are you doing?" He flew back and sat hovering at the other end of the bed.

"Have you ever heard over Neverland?" he said grinning waving his hand, shooing away the fairy. I slowly sat up and said,

"No, maybe it was in one of Aunt Wendy's books but I cannot remember," Peter looked at me and in a story-tellers voice said:

"It is a place of dreams. It's an island second star to the right and straight on till morning. With mermaid's – not the one's you read in children's books who are happy and playful, but they are evil mystical creatures, who will drown you at any chance," as shiver went down my spine. We both leant towards each other slightly as he continued, "and Indians. Wise people of Neverland – not very helpful though. And then there are pirates. Cunning and blood-thirsty, sailing the Black Mist and lead by the vilest, notorious villain of all Thaddeus Eiye," I gasped in shock – the villain of my stories was real! "And then there is the fact that adventure is around every corner and you never, never have to grow up," he emphasized the last part of his sentence.

"Never have to grow up," I repeated under my breath then looked at him, "But Never must surely be far too long a time to be young – when you are grown up there are so many more things that you can do," I said but glazed over again at the thought of adventure around every turn, and never growing old would be a wonderful bonus.

"You do have a point other Wendy but not growing up is so much more fun!" he said.

"You are right Peter," I said smiling, he then clapped his hand's and flew to the ground muttering 'Oh the cleverness of me,'

"I have a great idea," he said smiling, "I have a brilliant idea other Wendy, come away with me! Come away with me to Neverland," his eye's were sparkling I could see he wanted me to so much.

"Why on earth would you want me for," I said, I mean I was just the 'other' Wendy.

"Because you're a lady – a story-telling lady and Neverland need's someone like that, someone proper," he said looking at me. I was very flustered indeed – proper, I certainly didn't want to be labeled 'proper'. But then I thought of what Peter had said about Neverland, then remember a description in a story I read by my aunt, of the crystal blue lagoon's, and the shady parts of the Neverland forest, and the twinkling light's of fairies, and the three moon's in the night sky, and the white sandy beaches, and the home underground. I was looking forward to the home underground, I had so many images of it and to see it in real life – oh that would be a treat. I smiled and stood up and said:

"To live my life in Neverland would be a wonderful adventure," said stepping towards him.

"To live would be an awfully big adventure," he replied smiling, "So are you coming, please say yes – after all the lost boys need a mother," I just laughed.

"Alright, I'll come, but I want you to promise that I won't get stuck at the house cleaning and cooking I want to be able to have adventure's too!" I said laughing, he joined in a nodded his head, "Alright, lets go. Wait," I turned around and picked up my dressing gown and slipped it on, "Don't want to get cold," I was still clasping the thimble in my hand – I hadn't let it go.

Peter called for the fairy she reluctantly flew over, "Tink this is Wendy – but a different Wendy, not the Wendy you know, "then he looked at me, "This is Tinkerbell, she is my fairy," he then dropped his voice and said, "She has lots of mood swing's or is angry," I giggled. I heard the tinkling of bells come from the fairy – the sounded angry, "It's ok Tink, just make Wendy glow alright – I'll have a word with you later," he muttered the last bit. Tink flew over the top of my head and shook fairy dust so that it covered my head and shoulders. The dust that I saw was in fact tiny clumps of golden flakes that shimmered in different light. "Now just think of one happy thought and keep it, then you will fly through the heaven's with the wind on your back and the cloud's below you," he said taking my hand's feeling the thimble and smiling. Soon I felt my feet rise from the ground, my heart was pumping faster than ever, I was flying. Well not quite yet but hovering at least! "Now, will you fly with me?" Peter said letting my hand's go slightly, is cheeky eye's lighting up.

I grasped them again and answered, "Yes Peter, I will come back, I will come back to Neverland," and with that he let one hand go and lead me out the window. I looked back on my room and whispered to myself "Good bye old life – hello Neverland."


	5. Chapter four

Chapter four - Il est beau

Once you kick off from the ground and start to float through the air, there is no going back to the way your life once was. You become care-free and begin to believe in anything, because anything is possible. The first time that Peter took my hand and guided me into the still summer night sky I knew that there was no going back to the Wendy Darling that I once was. I knew that it was Neverland or nothing and I would choose Neverland over nothing any day. With Peter laughing at my side and the wind rushing like a gushing river through my hair I knew that I had reached heaven. We soared high above the town houses of the city of London and from our height they looked like little houses which belonged to ants or things of that such. For many minutes we didn't talk as we flew high and high into the purple night sky. The stars were brighter up there and the very few clouds that hovered above the world, tickled out feet as we passed them. Peter would often loosen his grip on my hand but I would snatch it back again in fear of loosing my way or falling to the ground he looked at my worried face and laughed:

"Don't be frightened, it's not like I would fly off and leave you to get lost," he said gaily. His face lit up as Tinkerbell flew beside his cheek.

"I am not frightened of that, it is the pure fear of dropping from and ever so high altitude," I said looking down below me – we were very high up now. He laughed again.

"Why are you scared of falling I would never let you fall – well from this height at least," he said laughing again – I wasn't at all reassured by his last remark.

"You overwhelm me with confidence," I said sarcastically, making him laugh – he did seem to be happy at the moment.

"Well you should be confident, especially with a boy like me," he winked making me laugh. He then looked at where out hands were clasped, slowly we began to unfasten, if you would care to say, them and soon I was flying on my own. I reached my arms out in front of me and zigzagged from side to side, twirling around like a drill. I looked over to find that Peter had disappeared behind a cloud. I became anxious because I couldn't see either a boy dressed in leaves flying around laughing or a little light that gave of the effect that it was annoyed. I looked around and when I ended up at the end of the cloud that I though Peter had gone behind I found he was not there. Suddenly I heard a faint whistling sound from below me, as I looked down I saw Peter flying there on his back with his arms crossed. I was indeed relieved and he flew back up to my side laughing.

"You should have seen your face other Wendy!" I wasn't impressed.

"That wasn't very funny Peter, and why do you keep on calling me other Wendy – it for one isn't my name and I don't much fancy it either," I said looking at him, a look of thought came over his face.

"Well...Wendy" he said putting special emphasis on my name, "You are other Wendy because you are not the Wendy that I know," he said in a matter-of-factly tone, "But I didn't know that you don't like the new name that I gave you, so if you desperately want I will call you Wendy," he said flying on his side with one hand supporting his head, waiting for and answer.

"Well that would be much appreciated Peter, thank you," I said stretching out my arms and letting out a yawn, "So Peter what are the lost boys like?" I ask staring into the stars as we began to rise up away from the earth and into the realm of the planets.

"They are – well...um...err...lost?" he said not being able to find the right word to describe the group of you males that he called his 'men'. "They are an interesting sort, who obviously like stories, and they like to play and pretend to be on adventures when really we aren't on one. Oh, they aren't very clean or well mannered," he said giving a disapproving look. I gave him a quick over look and saw that he wasn't the cleanest person in the world either. I stifled a giggle, "But they are a bundle of fun in a sense and they will all fall in love with you," he said, I could feel the tips of my ears turning slightly pink.

"I cannot wait to meet them," I said smiling as we passed more planets and balls of burning gas. Then at the thought of the lost boys I remember my cousins, my family. I hadn't even given a single though to what they might think of my sudden disappearance, how they might act to my leaving. I thought of my poor Aunt and how sick with worry she would be and how she would have to hire someone now to look after the boys. Then my thoughts turned that my Aunt Wendy. It would be a terrible loss for her to know that she would never lay her sparkling blue forget-me-not eyes on the girl-child figure that belong to me, and how she had now lost her only niece and that there probably would never be another in my place. Then I thought of what she said that evening on the porch as she was about to turn and leave for France; 'Wendy, you are almost thirteen, and I have a piece of advice for you. If a boy comes to your window at night and has a little light following him and he wears garments made from leaves and vines, do not be afraid. If this boy offers to take you away to a place called Neverland...If he offers to take you away to a place called Neverland and you say yes, never, I repeat never return,'. I knew now as I flew through the realm of the planets and light of the twinkling stars that going back was never, ever going to be an option for me. I secretly swore to myself not to return and soon my eyes stung, with the though that I would never see my beloved family again.

"Wendy? Wendy are you alright?" asked Peter with a concerned look on his round cheery face. I nodded, quickly wiping away the tears that had escaped from my eyes. He looked up a head and his face lit up, he turned to me and winked, "Wendy, hold onto my ankle," I did as he said and grasped hold of his firm brown ankle with both of my hands. He whipped his head around and nodded to me then with a tremendous push we started to fly at an uncharted amount of speed with Tinkerbell fluttering beside us, he then shouted out, "DON'T LET GO!" but his word's trailed off, but I had no intention of letting go. I closed my eyes as we began to speed towards a ball of burning gas – second star to the right. Suddenly I felt the warm rays of the sun on my neck and the uncovered parts of my arm. We had slowed down and Peter was beginning to unclasp my tight hands around his ankle. I let go suddenly floating forward slowly not knowing where I was going.

Slowly I began to open my eyes to find a brilliant ray of light in the clear sky and as I look down I saw my future, Neverland. It was just as I had imagined it, an island all alone with no sign of land anywhere else just crystal blue, shimmering water surrounding it. There was a high volcanic mountain to the far side of it and the island itself was completely covered in dense green forest. Around the outline of the island there was a thin strip of white sand and light blue water that led into the deeper blue. The shore line went in and out, making little inlets and lagoons whilst there was one huge port which from a high. Still; it gave off the effect of it being busy and active. My face was in complete awe at the sight that lay before me, it was as if I had stepped into a dream that I never would want to wake from. Peter hovered near me smiling. I turned to face him with gleaming eyes as if all of my wildest dreams had come true, which was in fact the truth. I looked back to see ships docked at the sea port and one sail further around the island off the shore. I then felt something creep into my limp hand then realized it was Peter's hand. He held it then guided me over to the only clump of clouds in the sky lowering himself onto one on the larger and fuller clouds in the front so that we could have a clear view of Neverland. I felt a little uneasy sitting on something that might collapse under my weight, but after watching Peter float onto the cloud cross legged, I was more comfortable with the idea. I sat opposite him in the same position, smiling.

"So what do you think?" he said looking out on the island. I looked out to and not turning to him said softly:

"Il est beau," I turned to find him giving me a quizzical look whilst scratching his head in thought. "It means 'it is beautiful' in French. I never really fancied French, but on one of the trips Aunt Wendy made to London, she taught me a little. Just simple phrases that I might find useful one day," I said smiling at him then turning back to look at Neverland. Peter muttered 'Oh...' under his breath then turned back to look down on his home. "Peter," I said not turning around, "whose ship is that?" I said pointing down to the pirate ship that was moored further around the island, away from the sea port. I put his hand on my arm lowering it then said in a lowered and mysterious voice:

"That is the cursed ship of Captain Thaddeus Eiye," a shiver of excitement went down my spine. He then pointed over to the sea port and said, "That is the pirate sea port. Many old scallywags live there, some that don't sail, some that are just waiting for someone to take them out of there. There aren't many ship often docked there – one or two mainly – but you can get anything you need at that village – all you have to do is act like a pirate! Which may I add is quite easy to do. Yep, many ships come in and out of that port, but old Thaddeus Eiye has never left Neverland," said Peter stretching his arms up.

"So how long has he been in Neverland then?" I asked looking at Peter.

"Well, some say that he has been here since the beginning, but they are just old pirate tales. He lived in the pirate village for a long time before he became captain of that crew. But when Hook was killed," Peter sniggered, "He immediately took over Hook's old ship. Fixing it up to his standard's, re-naming it, getting aboard some new crew members and such, he became a man rising to power, and it was only a matter of time before he became my enemy," said Peter cheerfully. I smiled; it was indeed wonderful to know that the man who had haunted my stories for so long was indeed real. As I sat on the cloud I felt like I could stay in that one spot just as long as Peter was by my side, but then I realized that there was an absence of tinkling bells and small flake's of dust. I looked around and noticed Tinkerbell was not there. Peter saw me turning my head in all directions and asked, "What is the matter?"

"Tinkerbell is no longer with us," I answered looking at him. He just shrugged his shoulders and said:

"She has probably flown home, which we should be doing soon," he added floating off the cloud. I nodded and followed him as we began to fly nearer to the island itself. As we drew nearer I noticed large outlines in the blue water – they must have been whales or large marine animals of some sort. Following Peter, we then entered the Neverland jungle from the tree tops. It was exactly how I imagined a rainforest would look like, tall trees reaching higher then the rest, the canopy and the under storey. As we flew through the forest amongst the tree trunks and the plants that grew on them I noticed than many of the trees had vines attached to them and it was as if someone was swinging on numbers of them but only the shadow could be seen. Before long we seemed to arrive in the middle of the jungle where there stood a circle of seven trees around a space in the middle which had small shrubs and ferns growing all over it. Peter led me to the largest tree out of the seven. He flew down to the forest floor and pushed a knot in the tree. I floated down and landed on the ground at the base of the tree, and being so caught up in looking at my surroundings it came a big surprise to me when I felt the ground shift slightly from under my feet and I fell through a hole which connected to a slide that curved under ground opening out into a cleared space in the earth. I fell onto the floor with a thud and got up dusting of dirt that now cover parts of my pink dressing-gown. I stood up and rubbed my backside making faces expressing the soreness I now felt. It took me a moment to realize where I was then in an expression of awe I looked around to see that I had fallen into a home underground. The ceiling was made up of roots and solid clumps of dirt and rock. The floor was pretty level and littered with many personal possessions, toys and old books mainly belonging to the boys. There were dug out selfs wide and long enough to act as cupboards with tree roots all entwined above them. They were littered with smashed up plates; olds leafs or crumbs, with stray knives and forks and even some pots and pans. Over the opposite side of the room to where I stood was a large cooking pot similar to the one that Cook had back in London. There was also a trickle of water running from one part of the ceiling into a basin like structure, as if it was a waterfall running into a pool. There were also many different species of flower and such around the walls or over in the out of way corners that I had never seen back in London. In the middle of the room was a long wooden table with assorted bowls and serving items with nine small chairs around it and one large decorated one at the end of it. This chair had a tall wooden back with antlers on the top and decorated arms and legs. There was also an old moth eaten cushion in the seat of the chair. I went over to it, being careful no to trip over any of the items on the floor and ran my fingers over the carving on the chair. I looked around and there were many more tunnels and slides that lead out of the large room and there was a single doorway with a tatty piece of material. I walked over to it and just as I was about to peek inside Peter said:

"That's my room," I turned around my hand over my heart, it was beating rapidly.

"Oh, Peter! You gave me such a fright! I am sorry I didn't know," I said walking over to where he stood – knuckles on his hips.

"It's okay. So Wendy, welcome to the home Underground. How do you like the look of it?" he asked as I came towards him. I stopped and looked around again.

"Well it is, how can I say this, messy. But everything one would expect from a bunch of boys living without a woman in the house," I said returning my gaze to Peter, "Where do all the tunnels and slide's go to?"

"Well, off to the different trees, the slides all come here but the lost boys all sleep in different trees. See, seven tunnels and seven slides for seven trees," he then turned and pointed to the slide that brought me into the home and said, "You know where that comes from – the largest tree. The tunnel that leads up to it is where Nob and Bob sleep. Then that set over there is where Talky and Candy sleep," he said then pointing to another tunnel and slide. Then turning around he said, "That is where Night and Whisper sleep. Then that is where Lo and Iggy sleep," then he pointed to the fifth set and said, "That is where Pyro sleeps – he is, your age actually and he wanted his own tree go he got one," said Peter shrugging slightly, "Apart from Tink he is my best friend," I looked at Peter.

"How old are the lost boys?" I asked a little anxious.

"Oh a range, Talky is three and Pyro is 13 and all the rest are in the middle," I nodded at his answer then looked around again and said,

"Uh, Peter, where do I sleep? Seeing as already five – if I am not mistaken, of the trees are preoccupied and you have the room in there which I suspect lead into another tree," Peter nodded in agreement, "So where do I sleep?"

"Well, come this way," he said walking over to one of the tunnels which didn't look like it hadn't been used in a long time. He started to climb up and I followed him. It was small but I could easily climb in it. There were many rocks and spider webs throughout the whole tunnel, but it didn't go for to long, soon we came up into a hollowed out tree which had a thin stream of light coming in which showed the dust particles. We must have been half-way up the tree but the floor was defiantly stable. It was a large round tree with thick black and dark reddish-brown bark. Peter went over and pulled a thin piece of rope which pulled up a set of old wooden blinds which were chipped at the edges. A flood of green light streamed into the room and I could see the room in more detail. It was a quiet looking room, with shelves carved from the original trunk as well as low bed that had a ratty old piece of cloth spread over it. There was also a long thick vine that had a groove in it and was worn soft from use which acted as a pillow. There were also carved out tables and basins and old, worn books on the shelves. Peter opened another blind to let another stream of light in. There was also a small candle which still stood fairly tall with a solid pool of wax at the bottom. On the dust floor there was a moth eaten old rug. I twirled around the room was wonderful. There were also leaves and flowers that had begun to bloom inside the room. I twirled around looking at the room it was everything I dreamed of. Peter looked at me after opening all the blind's smiling, "Do you like it?"

"Like it! I love it!" I exclaimed walking over to the bed. It had straw lining it that I had not seen before and a groove from so much use. The lining of straw was thin and needed to be replaced. I sat down and found it quite comfortable. Peter hovered over to me and sat crossed legged in the air, "Thank you so much Peter, this is perfect."

"Well I am glad that you like it. Hear that?" he said I strained my ears and heard yells coming up from the home underground. "The Lost Boys must be home," We both slid down the rough slide and landed back in the underground room. There before us were a group of nine boys making a mess. Peter let out a tremendous whistle and the boys all stopped and lined up from tallest to shortest, the all gave me very queer looks. "Boys this is Wendy,"


	6. Chapter five

Chapter five - Apples

The lost boys were indeed, lost, as Peter said. They were also very unclean and messy. Their hair was all knotted; some wore hats to cover it some did not. Their skin was brown with dirt smudged over it and their clothes were worn and torn. I sighed heaved a heavy 'Hello' as I looked at the bunch that had been listening to my stories for years. Let me start from smallest to tallest, or youngest to oldest if you fancy.

When I laid eyes on Talky I feel in love with him. The smallest of the bunch he had the same sparkle of adventure in his eyes as Peter did. He had emerald green eyes which danced in the soft light, and short curly black hair which was crammed flat by an old brown felt hat. His skin wasn't as brown as any of the other lost boys, he mustn't have been in Neverland very long, but he was indeed browner than I was. He was wearing an old kaki shirt that was clearly too big for him as were his short that were held in place by a tight piece of rope also holding a small metal dagger. He smiled and waved at me, walking over and shaking my hand – something Peter must have told them – only coming up to my waist. He brandished a pearly white smile, with a few teeth missing but that would be expected from someone so young. I bent down so that our eyes were level and asked him his age, he didn't reply. I looked to Peter but one of the other boys answered.

"Talky doesn't well, talk," said the boy. I found that quite amusing but I wasn't going to show it. Peter stepped forward and put his hands on Talky's shoulders, I stood up so our eyes were almost level.

"We think he is three, but we aren't sure," Peter said as Talky flashed a smile again and took my hand leading me back to the other boys outstretching his hand, pointing to the next boy. The height difference between the two was quite large, even though there was only one year separating them in age. Candy was a boy who could be quite easily mistaken for a girl who was a tomboy. He had beautiful long eyelashes tat I would kill for, that shaded his grey blue eyes. He had a mop of wavy blond hair that covered his eyes and his fringe came down past his eyebrows – almost covering his eyes. His round face was freckled and full of mischief, but bounding with happiness. He had a small build that made him look fragile and bird like. With long brown fingers and toes that were bandaged up in some parts, it was clear to see that he was a rough child. On his bare chest he had strapped securely a quiver and in his hand he clutched the bow. He too had shorts too big for him that were more torn and worn held fast by a rope, but with no shiny dagger. He bowed low to me and his thin mouth curled into a smile spreading from ear to ear, I curtsied making him laugh, causing a chain reaction making the other boys laugh. I frowned and put my hands on my hip's, Candy stopped laughing, the other boys still going but softer.

"I am sorry Miss Wendy, I didn't want to make you cross," he said as he stepped in front of me, Peter was somersaulting around in the air behind Candy, I giggled.

"It is alright, how old are you?" I said smiling; he puffed out his chest and answered proudly;

"Four. And I am proud of it!" Everyone, including him, broke out into laughter. Soon the chorus of happy laughs died out and Talky lead me to the next boys, Peter hovering behind me peering over my shoulder. The next two boys were a set of identical twins. I could see no difference, even down to the last freckle on their small, brown noses. They were not much taller than Candy but looked very different. They had a stocky build, with broad shoulders and large hands and feet. They had bushy black eye brows and wore plain, black felt hats on top of their thick black hair. They both wore similar clothes, torn shirts, mattered shorts and a dagger fastened at their holsters which gleamed and had small red stains on them. They had defined faces, with clear cheekbones and a pointy chin. They smiled from ear to ear and outstretched their hands about to embrace me in a firm hand shake, their hazel eyes dancing with mischief. I knew from the moment I saw them that they would be a handful, their cheeky gaze, and mischievous smile. I went the shake their hands but they pulled them back in a synchronized movement laughing as they went, but there was no chorus to follow them. Peter flew in front of the two with a stern look on his face. I rested my hand on his shoulder and he turned around before saying anything.

"Its ok, they **were** just joking," I said smiling, he just shrugged.

"This is Nob and Bob, devil tricksters," Peter said turning around pointing to each of them in turn, clapping the one called Bob on the shoulder.

"We are sorry miss!" they chanted, chuckling at the same time, I just smiled in a reassuring way.

The next four were all the same height, and our eyes were level. None of them looked any older than eleven. The one nearest to the twins was a stick-like boy with wispy blond hair and baby blue eyes. He unlike Nob and Bob had small shoulders but had long fingers and toes that matched his large hands and long limbs. He wore a navy shirt that had the sleeves tore off and hung loosely over his thin form. He wore shorts that I suspected were made from some type of fur but were worn thin. He had a leather belt strapped around his waist which held a sheathed sword and a small bag. He too had a quiver of arrows and a bow strapped around his chest exposing his figure. His triangular face was happy and cheerful, and wreaking of mischief. He bowed and held his hand, palm face up and outstretched. I too curtsied only receiving a snigger from the twins placing my hand and his. He drew it up to his moist lips and kissed it lightly – I blushed. They called him Whisper.

Next to Whisper was a boy of very different form. With gleaming brown skin and mischievous eyes that darted from side to side as if he was hatching a plan to wreak havoc, much the same as the twins. He had thick black, or close to black hair that match his sharp eyes. His broad shoulders made him look twice the size of Whisper, when really he wasn't. He wore complete black with on sleeve of his shirt completely torn away. On top of his thick hair he wore a mattered, dusty, black top hat that contrasted completely with his character. He held tight a small spear in his hand which was decorated with vivid coloured feathers, feathers that I had never seen floating around the pavement on the streets of London. There were also strings of beads that hung from the lost boy's waist. All marvelous in their gleam, I made a secret wish that I one day, very soon, I would have beads draped around my neck making me look like a princess. His round face and large lips pursed has he kissed my hand as Whisper had done previously. He drew away with a spark in his eyes as he adjusted the hilt of his sword to make it more comfortable. He would be a true gentleman I thought, I wondered if his speech held in such high esteem as his actions did.

"What's your name," how vulgar of me I thought soon after I had asked my question, what's your name – ridiculous.

"Ma, name is Night," he had the coarsest voice I had ever heard in my short lifetime, even for a young boy. However he didn't seem to mind much that he had such a queer voice. I curtsied slightly and turned to the next boy next to him. He had a bare brown chest and wore a pair of tatty black short hitched up with a rope. He had grazes all over his elbows and knees and adjusted his sword at his right holster. He had a bandana keeping his honey brown hair away from his face that was darned with feathers similar to that of the ones on Nights spear. He also had strapped to his back a quiver of arrows with his bow tuck neatly away too. His hazel eyes were full of excitement and his round child face broke out into a smile showing his teeth and in some places ones that were missing. He had rings around his eyes and green and brown face paint all over his cheeks and in some parts of his upper arm. I could imagine him as a dancer, a performer of old Indian rituals in which he was the main character or dancer. My hand was limp by my side and he gently lifted it to his lips, they weren't moist like the other boys, but chapped and coarse. As he stood up straight his whispered his name; "Iggy," Peter coughed from somewhere behind me, it seemed to be and uncomfortable cough. I whipped around to look at the ageless boy.

"Are you quite alright Peter?" he nodded, floating above the ground.

"Don't mind him Wendy lady," said an unfamiliar voice from behind me. It came from a short boy with broad shoulders and a heavy lisp. He had long brown hair that curled at the tips just behind the ears. He had deep brown eyes and a pointy chin, with small dimples that came up when he smiled. He had a cheeky grin and a bright gleam in his brown eyes. He wore leather bands around his wrists and ankles that would leave a white mark from his tan line. His feet (as were all the other Lost Boys') were black and encrusted with mud, and there was a certain stench that came from him that didn't come from the other boys – obviously he had been the longest without a wash. He leaned against the tall spear that he held in his left hand and casually sheathed the bloody sword in his right. He seemed to have a new scratch and a tear in his mattered brown trousers with a brown smear across his chest. I reluctantly held out my hand for him to kiss, trying not to show my distaste in his hygiene, his teeth were yellow too. His dirty lips left a mark on my porcelain white skin, he smiled uneasily. He would be the first of the boys I would have to tackle. "My name is Lo," he said proudly then turned to his side to the final Lost Boy, "And this is Pyro,"

The name rang in my ears. Pyro. The chatter of all the other Lost Boys seemed to die away leaving Pyro and myself. His creamy brown eyes were locked on mine. They had a twinkle in them that I hadn't seen in any of the other boys, something that drew me in. His face was more mature and defined, not boyish more like a man. His square jaw sat straight in a smirk and his defined cheek bones were smeared with mud. He was a head taller than be and a little taller than Peter. He had curly chocolate brown hair that curled up just under his ears like little wings. He had broad shoulders and beautiful toned muscles in his arms underneath his golden brown skin. He wore a red vest that was tattered and was unbuttoned revealing his bare chest. On the bottom he wore a pair of torn brown shorts held up with a rope. On the right he had a dagger fastened to his 'belt' and on the left a small felt bag hung closed. He bowed low and I curtsied outstretching my hand for him to kiss. He pressed his warm, moist lips lightly on her hand then stood up. He smiled; I felt my ears turn pink. A wave washed over me. I couldn't understand him, like I could Peter. You see, the moment I saw Peter I knew he was a trouble making hoodlum, with mischievous schemes and a wonderful attitude to everything in life. But when I looked at Pyro, everything was blurred.

I soon snapped back to reality when I felt Talky tug on my skirt. I broke my eye contact with Pyro and looked down at the small child. He was smiling brilliantly at me, I looked back up to where Pyro had stood, but he had turned away. Someone called my name over and over.

"Wendy, Wendy!" It was Peter shaking my shoulder with his cheeky grin, I looked at him question written over my face, "Wendy, the boys want to ask you something," I turned to the eight boys who smiled at me in a group.

"Wendy lady," said Night, I nodded in acknowledgement, "Will you be our mother?" It came as quite a shock to me, a mother? I had never been or had any experience in being a mother before – unless you counted bathing and telling stories to the boys in London. Why I had barley had any influence from a mother, or a substantial motherly figure in my life.

"Well, this is a surprise boys – I wouldn't know how to be a mother," I said looking at them seeing the hope die away from their faces. Nob stood out and spoke:

"Can you clean?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Can you cook?"

"Yes,"

"Can you tuck us in on cold nights?"

"Of course,"

"Can you tell stories?"

"Well naturally yes." I said as the boys rose up a cheer, Peter and Pyro just stood in the corner, side by side, arms crossed, both with smug looks on their faces.

"That is all you need Wendy lady!" Shouted Candy, "You'll be a perfect mother!" They all began to dance around me raising their arms with triumph, Peter and Pyro joining in. I couldn't help but laugh.

Dinner time was an adventure all in its own. To my utter horror I was informed by one of the boys that often times they went without dinner, or they pretended that they had dinner. I had to sit down I was in so much shock, no supper – how dreadful!

"Are you alright Wendy?" said a concerned Peter as he flew above the semi-circle of boys who sat around the front of my chair. He came close to my face and looked into my eyes.

"Yes, a little shocked but alright," I rubbed my eyes then looked around at all the eager faces before me, "Why do you have to pretend to have dinner? Or supper?" In Neverland they referred to supper as dinner and didn't seem to have lunch.

"Well, you see..." Bob started.

"We aren't that lucky in catching our food," Nob finished.

"And we can't buy anything from the pirate port," said Iggy.

"And the Indians aren't that helpful," said Lo. I shook my head, closing my eyes – they needed to eat.

"Why don't you go and catch some fish – or hunt a boar?" I suggested the boys looked around at each other then to the hovering Peter, but Pyro spoke in his cool voice first.

"I think that it sounds like a good idea – we can also pick the other food that hangs from the trees in the forest," I heard a tinkling of bells that seemed to agree with Pyro. Tinker Bell flew to Peter's shoulder and hovered above it speaking to him. I wish that I could understand what she was saying. Finally Peter nodded after much thought on the matter. He flew to the ground and stood with his hands on his hips; the boys stood up and looked at him.

"Lost Boys we are going fishing!" He said grabbing a spear from a rack near by, soon all the boys had one and were starting to head for the exit tunnel when:

"Wait! What about mother? She cannot come with us," said Whisper looking back at me as I followed them. I crossed my arms.

"And why not? I am capable of fishing I am sure," the truth was I had no idea, but it would be my first real adventure in Neverland then.

"Because, where we are going is **far** too dangerous for a lady," said Peter walking up to me.

"But..."I didn't get to finish, Peter had silenced me.

"No, you can go into the forest and pick food off the trees," said Peter.

"Fruit you mean," I corrected him.

"Well, of course. Pyro can go with you," he said and that was that. I soon found myself walking side-by-side with Pyro through the rough forest of Neverland. Every now and then I saw a flash of light come from behind a tree suspecting it was a fairy. As we ventured deeper into the forest the little lights became more frequent.

"Pyro," I asked softly, he was a step ahead of me. We hadn't had any real conversation since we left the Home Underground. "Pyro," I asked again, this time I got a response.

"Yes Wendy," he didn't call me mother like the other boys, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Where are we – I see fairies everywhere," I stepped up to him so that we were side by side. He looked around as we continued to walk deeper into the forest. I awaited and answer.

"We are coming closer to the fairy domain. The Neverland forest is spilt up almost in to the domains of magical creatures, this one is the fairy domain. See that clearing," he said pointing past me through the trees, "That is their meeting place so too say. There is an old hollow tree where the queen lives," he said. I loved his cool voice.

"Where are we going?" I then asked totally clueless.

"Here," he said as we stopped at the foot of a large tree. It was an old tree I could see by the bark and little fairy lights flew around the tops plucking off little fruits from the tree. It had green skeleton leaves that I had never seen before in my life. There were also assortments of fruits that hung from the branches of the trees that I had never seen before, but some that I had – apples. I reached for one but Pyro grabbed my arm. "Not yet you have to ask the tree to take them first," He lowered my arm and looked to the tree. Now that I saw it I noticed in the old trunk there was a carved face with closed eyes and it seemed to be sleeping. Pyro stepped forward and whispered something in a tongue I did not understand. Suddenly the old face awoke smiling.

"Hello Pyro, no Peter with you?" said the tree in a slow, low voice.

"Not today, just Wendy," he said cheerfully. Taking my hand and leading me closer to the tree.

"A Wendy, we haven't had a Wendy in Neverland for a very long time," he said slowly with a sigh, "Hello, Wendy," I smiled and piped out a feeble 'Hello', I had never talked to a tree before let alone seen a tree talk before.

"We need to pick the fruit that grows plentiful on your branches," said Pyro poetically.

"You know you are always welcome," said the tree smiling and just as he was closing his eyes he jumped awake again before we even pick a single fruit, "My dear boy, terrible things have reached my ears, murmurs of the mermaids. They are restless and tales of an old pirate crew out for revenge,"

"Mermaids?" I said as I picked an apple from a branch placing it in my skirt.

"Yes Wendy, mermaids. They are restless, never go near the lagoon without Peter my sweet or they shall lure you to your grave," a shudder went down my spine as Pyro and I continued to pick the fruit.

"What is this about the pirate crew? Pirates haven't been that much trouble to Neverland of late you see Wendy," Pyro said looking at me.

"I only hear murmurs, no detail in their plans," said the old tree gruffly. And with that he drifted off to sleep.

I am not sure how long I was at the tree with Pyro, but soon the sun faded and all that was left in the sky were the twinkling lights of the moon, stars and fairies. We had talk about a great manner of things. This and that, what Pyro's life was like before Neverland, what my life was like; I found that I got to know the lost boy quite well.

"How is it that there are only lost boys, not girls?" I asked as we left the old tree my skirt full of fruit.

"Well you see, lost boys are orphans who fall from their prams when their nurses look away. When they are not collected or found within seven days they are sent to Neverland, some end up as pirates some not. But mainly Peter finds them and brings them here. However babies are getting smarter and so are nurses so children don't fall out and run away anymore," he said as we began to near the circle of seven trees.

"But that still doesn't answer my question on why there is no lost girls," I said looking at him as we climbed over a log not wanting to drop anything – I had forgotten that I could fly.

"Oh! Girls are far to smart to fall out of their prams," he said happily in his cool voice. I smiled.

"Well I will be a lost girl then," I said triumphantly.

"No you won't, you're a lady and our mother," he said in a matter-of-factly tone.

"I am not a lady or a mother," I said standing still slightly frustrated.

"Well you aren't my mother that's for sure," he said as we pressed on, "But the other boys think you are and imagine how depressed they would be if you said that you weren't their mother," he did have a point. "Anyway, it doesn't matter Wendy I guess, you can be whatever you like," he said as we reached the tunnel. We zoomed down the slide and landed with a thud the fruit spilling - everyone else was already preparing the fish. The little tinkling of bells told me that Tinker Bell was in charge; fluttering around telling the boys how to cook what they had caught. It was a merry sight to see, and sitting on a bare self, playing on his pipes was Peter. He nodded to me and Pyro smiling continuing playing his pipes. I picked up the rest of the fruit and took it over to the table and saw the boys cooking their food over a burning fire. I also noticed that they were singing along to Peter's pipes.

_One a, two a, three a four_

_Come and help us cook five more!_

_Six a, seven a, eight a nine_

_Ten and- Eleven!_

_Cooking our feast not for fun!_

_But for eating, yum, yum, yum!_

_Repeating over this same song!_

_Helping us along!_

_Mother, Mother! Look here now!_

_We are cooking aren't you proud?_

_Come and help us, help us along!_

_Singing this sweet song!_

_Pyro, Pyro, Pyro cut some fruit!_

_Iggy, Iggy you help too!_

_Nob and Bob will do the plates!_

_Candy, Candy serves with grace!_

_Lo, oh Lo you cook too slow!_

_Whisper, Whisper cuts fish in a row!_

_Night, ruff Night will get the drinks,_

_While Talky sits and thinks!_

_Oh, Mother, Mother! Look here now!_

_We have cooked oh aren't you proud?_

_Come and help us eat this food!_

_Don't forget Peter too!_

They finished their merry song and soon were all seated around the table with Peter at the head sitting in the carved chair. I laughed and clapped with joy – the made a wonderful dinner all on their own! Peter had pulled up a chair and I sat opposite him at the end on the table. Before we started to eat Peter said solemnly:

"Everyone say Grace," and so they did literally making me laugh even more. As I took my fare share of food, I have to admit their cooking was far better than anything I had even tasted, even if it didn't come from Cook's kitchen!


	7. Chapter six

Chapter 6 - A matter of hugs, lullabies and spiders!

"And the Elf Queen gazed up with her sheer white eyes and whispered, 'Be gone from the place,' and with that the pirate king was gone, and would never return. She sat fully upright and looked over at the trembling Michael, tremble Night good boy. He was worried if she too would banish him for fraternizing with the enemy, but she just smiled and took from around her long pale neck a long silver chain with a small silver key handing from it. She placed it around his dirty neck and then she faded away into the place between sleep and awake, you know where you can remember dreams. And Michael became the keeper of the island and the protector of the elves, even though they are perfectly capable of looking after themselves. The end," Some how I had found myself telling the lost boys the story of the boy, the elf and the pirate king. Under severe persuasion from Peter I had reluctantly decided that the boys could help me act it out. Naturally I was the elf queen, graceful and pure with Peter as my king, Night was the boy Michael; Whisper was the pirate king with his band of scallywags consisting of the twins and Curly. Lo and Iggy were native roughens of the island and Talky and Pyro were gentle elves with a fierce aim. Overall we did in fact have a wonderful time acting out my tale – well the boys seemed to enjoy it but I could see now in their cheeky eyes that I was time for rest, however they weren't prepared to go to bed without a fight.

"Tell us another story mother," said Candy with a yawn.

"Yes please," said Nob and Bob in unison.

"Oh no, no boys, it is far too late. Why it must be after twelve o'clock –at night! No, it is time for bed boys," I said sitting on my chair crossing my arms. Peter walked over and hovered in the air beside me.

"Your mother is right boys, time for bed," a chorus of whines came from all the boys, but Peter put his hand up to silence them. I had a thought.

"Perhaps you would be more willing to go to bed if I sing you a lullaby?" I said looking at Peter, he smiled.

"Oh a perfect idea Wendy!" his face then turned quizzical, "What is a lullaby?" all the boys nodded in agreement.

"Well a lullaby is; a lullaby is..." I couldn't find the way to put it, a new it was a song that mothers sung to their children before the slept, or to help the child get to sleep but for some reason my voice didn't want to form the words all that came out was a warm sounding note.

The night has come, time for bed,

Time to rest you little head

Come here now, time for dreams;

Time to sleep.

Slumber land awaits you now,

Dreams so fine,

So don't waster time!

Floating away to fairy domains;

Time for sleep

Come here now

Make haste make haste!

You know there is not time to waste!

Time for mothers to sought your thoughts

Good from bad

Whilst you sleep!

The night has come, and morns not far

Dreams awaiting you there!

Now hurry now,

Don't wake at dawn!

Just sleep my sweet.

It was a lullaby my mother sang me when I was a small child, my eyes stung at the thought of her sweet voice. But as I looked around I saw that the song had indeed affected the boys. They all seemed droopy and tired, even Peter. I smiled and looked around at all of them; Talky was sleeping happily on the tatty rug. I studied him for a moment, his small round face smiling and his body rising and falling in a steady movement. I looked around and Peter was shaking himself awake and looked at me.

"So that was a lullaby!" he said all drowsy and smiling.

"Well, it is meant to send children to sleep at night – so off to bed with the lot of you!" I said standing up shooing them away. Pyro carefully scooped Talky up in his strong arms and headed towards one of the tunnels. I stood and watch the boys sway over to the tunnels and out of sight all who was left in to large common room was me and Peter. He stretched up with a large yawn like a great big dog and came over so that our faces almost touched; I was feeling a little uncomfortable. I tried to think of something to say, "Thank you so much for the thimble," I had found some rope and threaded it through now it hung on my neck. He gave me a queer look and took a step back from me.

"I didn't give you a thimble," he looked at me and tilted his head. Then I strained my memory, stories of my Aunt's adventures in Neverland started to flood back. A thimble, for a kiss! I smiled, such a silly boy.

"I meant thank you for the kiss," he smiled at me again. But I felt bad – I needed to give him a kiss now too. But what to give as a kiss? I looked around; maybe I would find something tomorrow it was far too late tonight. I walked closer and wrapped my arm around him lightly and said goodnight, he stood still.

"What was that?" he asked looking at me as I drew away.

"A hug Peter, a hug," I laughed looking at his boyish face, "Peter haven't you ever received a hug before?" I asked he shook his head solemnly. "Really?" I was quite astonished at his movement, in front of me stood this 14 perhaps 15 year old boy who had never been given a hug before.

"Never Wendy, but I suspect that is it a good thing," he said standing with his hands on his hips. I folded my arms across my small chest and looked at him shaking my head.

"That is absolutely correct Peter, hugs are the best things in the world," I said laughing.

"No they aren't, thimbles are," he said triumphantly. As I yawned I decided that it was far too late to argue on such a trivial matter as thimbles and hugs.

"Perhaps you are right. However I am going to bed. And you should too!" I exclaimed pointing a finger at him. I turned around to go up my little tunnel. I turned back as I reached it and looked at the strange boy, "Goodnight Peter," I heard him call goodnight after me too, it is so nice to get an answer.

As I started to fall into a deep, pleasant sleep I wondered what had happened to the small fairy Tinkerbell. I hadn't heard her little bells most of the night and began to worry. I had questioned Peter about it after dinner and he reassured me that she was probably off with her own fairy friends, I was still a little worried. When I woke in the crystal morning however I was greeted by the pleasant tinkling of bells coming from somewhere around me, I suspected it was coming from the hollow in the ground which comforted my fears. I slowly opened my eyes and looked around there were small streams of light coming into my tree trunk. I looked around at the small room, it was indeed pleasant. "Very homely" I muttered.

As my feet touched the soft wood I had the sudden urge to go to the window; well the hole in the tree trunk. I could here the joyful laughs of a group of boys come from below me; it made me smile, it was all real. For a moment as I slept I wondered if everything of the past night was indeed real, now I knew it was. The ten of them, the ten boys were running around with real swords in their hands barley missing each other as they played. I soon became quite concerned what happened if someone got cut? I would be the one to blame, seeing as I was their mother.

"Boys! Boys stop that at once you will hurt yourself!" I yelled from my small window halfway up the tree trunk; they hadn't heard me. As I went to call again I felt something crawl over my bare foot. I slowly let my eyes wander down not wanting to see what was there. Thinking of all the possible creatures that could be crawling over my foot I prepared for a scream that soon came out. I giant hairy black spider was making its way over my white foot. I screamed again it seemed to jump back and scampered away from me. My scream must have gotten the attention of the boys for I no longer heard the laughter and clashing over swords from below. In my shock I had fallen back on the ground, trembling. Peter had flown into my small tree and now knelt down beside me whilst I was still looking in the direction the spider had run off in. I looked up at his warm eyes, "There was a spider...and...and it was crawling over my foot," I said trembling; I truly feared spiders he just laughed.

"You can't be afraid of spiders Wendy. Otherwise they will really haunt you. If you are nice to the Neverland spiders they will tell you secrets and will never ever harm you," he said smiling taking my arm and pulling me up, "That is one of the things about Never land that you will have to learn about," he added in a matter-of-factly tone.

"But they are spiders Peter, spiders," I said with a shiver, he gave a chuckle.

"They are no worse then mermaids, and are just as helpful too," he said letting me go. I crossed my arms.

"I must say though I am still not very fond of them," I said pouting. He just laughed again and tugged my arm.

"Come, time for breakfast!" he said as he went first down the bumpy slide and I soon followed. It was quite painful to tell the truth, but I didn't dare complain after the ordeal with the spiders. He lead me once again to the table and with a manner that would only suit a gentleman he pulled out my chair and tucked it in again then flew down the end of the table and sat opposite me. It was just us in the messy hollow; well it wasn't as messy as it was the night before – but still messy! I could hear the boys beginning to slide down into the hollow carrying fruit of all sought for breakfast. I was about to get up and help prepare breakfast but they were already serving it. As they sat down the all looked at me with their gleaming faces – they all looked so happy! If only life was always like this.

"Good morning mother!" They all chimed and started to pile fruit on their plates. I saw Tinkerbell fluttering around telling them what to do just like the night before, before she disappeared. She threw me a disapproving look – I think she was jealous of me but I didn't dwell on it. I turned away and the dark eyed Pyro who was sitting next to me started up a little conversation – it was nice to have someone my age.

"Good morning Wendy! I trust you slept well," he said starting to put some fruit on my plate – such a gentleman!

"Oh it was wonderful thank you, and how was yours?" I said taking my plate off him gently and starting to place some of the sweet tasting fruit in my mouth. He leant on one of his elbows and looked at me smiling.

"Fabulous – I have the most comfortable bed out of anyone, save Peter of course," I giggled, but he probably was right.

"Do you know what we will be doing today? I would dearly love to have an adventure today," I said bouncing in my seat slightly. But Pyro shook his head.

"No, Peter said that we have to take you into the pirate town today," Pirate town! That is just the adventure I need, I thought. "You can't live in the forest with the garments you are wearing now, you would ruin them!" he did have a point.

"Well going into the pirate town seems like enough of an adventure to me!" I said taking a bite of the succulent apple that was on my plate. Pyro laughed.

"Well pirate towns are dodgy places, you'll need to be careful," he said looking at me seriously.

"But I have ten great warriors to protect me, why worry?" I said light heartedly.

"Well only Peter and I will be coming in with you, the others are too young – even though they have been into the town before," he said taking at bight of some bright pink fruit spraying juice all over me we both laughed.

"Well I will clean this up and then I think we should go. Does that sound good to you Peter?" I said calling down the table. Peter looked up food dribbling from his mouth, he had been talking and eating with Lo, Pyro and I laughed.


End file.
